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Published  by  R.H.Russell.  New  York.  190a 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/dogdayorangelinheman 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N  C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 

mm1  mi  hi:  urn  ii  111 


00022085832 


A   Dog*  Day 

or 
The  Angel  in  the  House 

by 

Walter  Emanuel 
Pictured 

by 

Cecil    Aldin 


}rR 


Published  by  R.H.Russell.  New  York.  1902. 


Copyright,  1902,  by  William   Heinemann. 
All  rights  reserved. 


Entered  at  Stationers  Hall,  London,  England. 

Entered  at  the  Library  of  Congress,  Washington,  U.S.A. 


TO 

W.  W.  JACOBS 

BECAUSE 
HE    LIKED    IT 


<*■ 


7 


A  DOG  DAY 

OR 

THE  ANGEL   IN    THE   HOUSE 

a.m.  Woke     up     feeling     rather     below    par,    owing    to 

disturbed  rest.  Hardly  enough  energy  to  stretch  myself. 
In  the  middle  of  the  night  a  strange  man  came  in  by  the 
kitchen  window,  very  quietly,  with  a  bag.  I  chummed  up 
to  him  at  once.  He  was  nice  to  me,  and  I  was  nice  to 
him.  He  got  me  down  a  piece  of  meat  that  I  could  not 
reach  mvself.  While  I  was  engaged  on  this,  he  took  a 
whole  lot  of  silver  things  and  put  them  into  the  bag. 
Then,  as  he  was  leaving,  the  brute — I  believe,  now,  it 
was  an  accident — trod  on  my  toe,  making  me  yelp  with 
pain.      I   bit  him  heartily,  and  he  dropped  his  bag,  and 


(Isp'LjpJ 


iSjoO. 


scurried  off  through  the  window  again.  My  yelping 
soon  woke  up  the  whole  house,  and,  in  a  very  short  time, 
old  Mr.  Brown  and  young  Mr.  Brown  appear.  They 
at  once  spot  the  bag  of  silver.  They  then  declare  I  have 
saved  the  house,  and  make  no  end  of  fuss  with  me.  I 
am  a  hero.  Later  on  Miss  Brown  came  down  and 
fondled  me  lots,  and  kissed  me,  and  tied  a  piece  of  pink 
ribbon  round  my  neck,  and  made  me  look  a  fool.  What's 
the  good  of  ribbon,  I  should  like  to  know  ?      It's  the  most 

beastly  tasting  stuff  there  ever  was. 


8-3°-  Ate  breakfast  with  difficulty.    Have  no  appetite. 

0-3S-  Ate  kittens'  breakfast. 

8.36-  An   affair  with    the    cat   (the   kittens'    mother).      But 

I  soon  leave  her,  as  the  coward  does  not  fight  fair,  using 

claws. 


(gfc, 


9-0-  Washed  by  Mary. 

A  hateful  business.  Put  into  a  tub,  and  rubbed  all  over 
—mouth,  tail,  and  everywhere — with  filthy  soapy  water, 
that  loathsome  cat  looking  on  all  the  while,  and  sneering  in 
her  dashed  superior  way.  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,  why 
the  hussy  should  be  so  conceited.  She  has  to  clean  her- 
self. I  keep  a  servant  to  clean  me.  At  the  same  time  I 
often  wish  1  was  a  black  dog.  They  keep  clean  so 
much  longer.  Every  finger-mark  shows  up  so  frightfully 
on  the  white  part  of  me.      I   am   a  sight  after  Cook  has 

been  stroking  me. 

9.30.  Showed    myself   in    my    washed  state  to  the  family. 

All  very  nice  to  me.  Quite  a  triumphal  entry,  in  fact.  It 
is  simply  wonderful  the  amount  of  kudos  I've  got  from 
that  incident  with  the  man.  Miss  Brown  (whom  I 
rather  like)  particularly  enthusiastic.  Kissed  me  again 
and  again,  and  called  me  "  a  dear,  clean,  brave,  sweet- 
smelling  little  doo-o-ie." 


9-4°-  While  a  visitor  was  being  let  in  at  the  front-door  I 

rushed   out,  and  had  the  most  glorious  roll  in  the  mud. 

Felt  more  like  my  old  self  then. 

9.45.  Visited  the  family  again.      Shrieks  of  horror  on  seeing 

me  caked  in  mud.  But  all  agreed  that  I  was  not  to  be 
scolded  to-day  as  I  was  a  hero  (over  the  man  !).  All, 
that  is,  except  Aunt  Brown,  whose  hand,  for  some  reason 
or  other,  is  always  against  me — though  nothing  is  too 
good  for  the  cat.      She  stigmatised  me,  quite  gratuitously, 

as  "a  horrid  fellow." 


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'n-i..vw-:-,. 
■  ■-/A'-;.-™;-;' 


9.  so.  Glorious  thought !     Rushed   upstairs  and  rolled   over 

and   over   on   the   old   maid's   bed.      Thank  Heaven,  the 

mud  was  still  wet ! 


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io  to  10.15,  Wagged  tail 


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i  o.  1 6.         Down  into  kitchen.     While  Cook  is  watching  regi- 

ment  pass,    I   play  with  chops,  and  bite  big  bits   out  of 

them.      Cook,  who  is  quite  upset  for  the  day  by  seeing  so 

many    soldiers,    continues    to    cook    the    chops    without 

noticing. 

ro.20  Dozed. 

to 


i -3 3-  Pains  in  my  underneath  get  worse. 

1.34.  Horrid  feeling  of  sickness. 


i.i/;. 


Ate  kittens'  dinner. 


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l.2o.         Attacked  by  beast  of  cat  again.      She  scratched  my 
hind-leg,  and  at  that  1  refused  to  go  on.      Mem.:  to  take 

it  out  of  her  kittens  later. 


(&<?.', 


1.25.  Upstairs  into  dining-room.     Family  not  finished  lunch 

yet.  Young  Mr.  Brown  throws  a  bread  pellet  at  me, 
hitting  me  on  the  nozzle.  An  insult.  I  swallow  the 
insult.  Then  I  go  up  to  Miss  Brown  and  look  at  her 
with  my  great  pleading  eyes.  I  guessed  it  :  they  are 
irresistible.  She  gives  me  a  piece  of  pudding.  Aunt 
Brown  tells  her  she  shouldn't.  At  which,  with  great 
pluck,  Miss  Brown  tells  her  to  mind  her  own  business. 

I  admire  that  girl  more  and  more 


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I.30.  A  windfall, 

slab  in  the  hall 


1.32. 


A  whole  dish  of  mayonnaise  fish  on  the 
Before  you  can   say  Jack  Robinson   I 

have  bolted  it. 
Curious  pains  in  my  underneath. 


1.35-  Rush  up  into  Aunt  Brown's  room,  and  am  sick  there. 


.yv. 


1.37-  Better.      Think    I   shall  pull  through  if  I  am  careful. 

1.40.  Almost  well  again. 

1.4 1.  Quite  well  again.  Thank  Heavens!  It  was  a 
narrow  shave  that  time.      People  ought  not  to  leave  such 

stuff  about. 

1.42.  Up  into  dining-room.  And,  to  show  how  well  I  am, 
I  gallumph  round  and  round  the  room,  at  full  pelt,  about 
twenty  times,  steering  myself  by  my  tail.  Then,  as  a  grand 
finale,  I  jump  twice  on  to  the  waistcoat-part  of  old  Mr. 
Brown,  who  is  sleeping  peacefully  in  the  arm-chair.  He 
wakes  up  very  angry  indeed,  and  uses  words  I  have  never 
heard  before.  Even  Miss  Brown,  to  my  no  little  surprise, 
says  it  is  very  naughty  of  me.  Old  Mr.  Brown  insists  on 
my  being  punished,  and  orders  Miss  Brown  to  beat  me. 
Miss  Brown  runs  the  burglar  for  all  he  is  worth.  But 
no  good.     Old  Mr.  Brown  is  dead  to  all  decent  feeling! 


So  Miss  Brown  beats  me.  Very  nice.  Thoroughly  en- 
joyable. Just  like  being  patted.  But,  of  course,  I  yelp, 
and  pretend  it  hurts  frightfully,  and  do  the  sad-eye 
business,  and  she  soon  leaves  off  and  takes  me  into  the 
next  room  and  gives  me  six  pieces  of  sugar !  Good 
business.  Must  remember  always  to  do  this.  Before 
leaving  she  kisses  me  and  explains  that  I  should  not  have 
jumped  on  poor  Pa,  as  he  is  the  man  who  goes  to  the 
City  to  earn  bones  for  me.      Something  in  that,  perhaps. 

Nice  girl. 


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2.0  to  3.15.  Attempt  to  kill  fur  rug  in  back  room.      No  good. 

3.15  to  3.45.  Sulked. 

3.46.  Small  boy  comes  in,  and  strokes  me.      I  snap  at  him. 

/  will  not  be  every  one's  plaything. 


3.47  to  4.0.  Another  attempt  to  kill  rug.     Would  have  done  it  this 

time,  had  not  that  odious  Aunt  Brown  come  in  and 
interfered.  I  did  not  say  anything,  but  gave  her  such  a 
look,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I'll  do  for  you  one  day."     I 

think  she  understood. 

4.0  to  5.15.  Slept. 


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5- 1 5-  Awakened  by  bad  attack  of  eczema. 


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5.20105.30.  Slept  again. 

5.30.  Awakened  again  by  eczema.     Caught  one. 


5.30  to  6.0.  Frightened  canary  by  staring  greedily  at  it. 


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I  OjO  V 


6,o.  Visited  kitchen-folk.      Boned  some  bones. 


6.15-  Stalked    a    kitten     in    kitchen-passage.      The    other 

little  cowards  ran  away. 
6. 20.  Things  are    looking  brighter  :  helped  mouse    escape 

from  cat. 


6.30.  Upstairs,  past  the  drawing-room.      Door  of  old  Mrs. 

Brown's  bedroom  open  invitingly.       I   entered.      Never 
been  in  before.     Nothing  much  worth  having.    Ate  a  few 

flowers  out  of  a  bonnet.      Beastly. 


Then    into    Miss    Brown's    room.      Very    tidy    when    I 

entered.      Discovered  there  packet  labelled   "High-class 

Pure  Confectionery."     Not  bad.      Pretty  room. 


y.o.         Down  to  supper.     Ate  it,  but  without  much  relish. 

I  am  off  my  feed  to-day. 

7-15-         Ate  kittens'  supper.      But  I  do  wish  they  would  not 

give  them  that  eternal  fish.      I  am  getting  sick  of  it. 

7.16.  Sick  of  it  in  the  garden. 

7.25.  Nasty  feeling  of  lassitude  comes  over  me,  with  loss  of 

all  initiative,  so   I   decide  to  take  things  quietly,  and  lie 

down  by  the  kitchen  fire.      Sometimes   I   think  that  I  am 

not  the  dog  that  I  was. 

8.0.  Hooray  !     Appetite  returning. 

8.1.  Ravenous. 

8.2.  Have    one    of    the    nicest     pieces    of    coal     I    have 

ever  come  across. 


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8.5.  Nose  around  the  kitchen  floor,  and   glean  a  bit  of 

onion,  an  imitation  tortoise-shell  comb,  a  shrimp  (almost 
entire),  an  abominably  stale  chunk  of  bread,  and  about 
half  a  yard  of  capital  string.  After  coal,  I  think  I  like 
string  best.  The  family  have  noticed  what  a  lot  of  this  I 
stow  away,  and  it  was  not  a  bad  idea  of  young  Mr. 
Brown's,  the  other  day,  that,  if  I  had  the  end  of  a  piece 
of  string  always  hanging  from  my  mouth,  they  could  use 
me  as  a  string-box.  Though  it  is  scarcely  a  matter  for 
joking  about.  Still,  it  made  me  laugh. 
8.30.  If  one    had    to    rely   on    other    people    one    might 

starve.      Fortunately,  in  the  hall  I  happen  on  the  treacle- 
pudding,  and  I  get  first  look  in.     Lap  up  the  treacle,  and 

leave  the  suet  for  the  family.     A 1 . 


8.40.  Down    into    the    kitchen    again.       Sit    by    the    fire, 

and  pretend  I  don't  know  what  treacle  is  like.  But  that 
vile  cat  is  there,  and  I  believe  she  guesses — keeps  looking 
round  at  me  with  her  hateful  superior  look.  Dash  her, 
what  right  has  she  got  to  give  herself  such  airs?  She's 
not  half  my  size,  and  pays  no  taxes.  Dash  her  smugness. 
Dash  her  altogether.  The  sight  of  her  maddens  me — 
and,  when  her  back  is  turned,  I  rush  at  her,  and  bite  her. 
The  crafty  coward  wags  her  tail,  pretending  she  likes  it, 
so  I  do  it  again,  and  then  she  rounds  on  me,  and  scratches 
my  paw  viciously,  drawing  blood,  and  making  me  howl 
with  pain.  This  brings  Miss  Brown  down  in  a  hurry. 
She  kisses  me,  tells  the  cat  she  is  a  naughty  cat  (TV  have 
killed  her  for  it),  gives  me  some  sugar,  and  wraps  the 
paw  up  in  a  bread-poultice.  Lord,  how  that  girl  loves  me! 
9.0.  Ate  the  bread-poultice. 

9.15.  Begin  to  get  sleepy. 

9.15  to  10. o.  Dozed. 

10. o.  Led  to  kennel. 

10.15.  Lights  out.     Thus  ends  another  dernd  dull  day. 


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